Age to Age
by KayValo87
Summary: After botching a hunt, the Winchesters get help from an unexpected source. but are these new arrivals more trouble then they are worth? Some Limp!Sam, a lot of Protective!Dean
1. Chapter 1

I'm serious this time, I WILL finish on of my stories soon. In fact, I plan to finish and post the next chapter of "Learning Curve" very shortly. That being said ...

**(: HAPPY BIRTHDAY THOMAS! :)**

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned them I would not be broke and therefor would be able to buy a birthday present instead of writing one.

Sam is 15, Dean is almost 20. Enjoy ...

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Chapter 1**

Anger. Red hot anger. That was all Sam felt during the silent drive back to the motel. Anger at Dean for not sticking up for him when he told Dad about the winter formal, when he was the one who encouraged him to asked Lori Barns out in the first place. Anger at his Dad for dragging him on the hunt, when they didn't need him there anyway. Anger at the d$%^ witch for getting away. Last of all, anger at himself for falling down the stairs and giving away their position. Now, even if his dad said he could go to the dance on Friday, there was no way he could go on crutches. His life just sucked. As soon as the pulled up to the room, Sam opened the car door and simultaneously pulled out his key.

"Dude!" Dean called from the front seat. "Wait until the car stops."

Ignoring his older brother, Sam unlocked the door and stormed inside … as much as you can storm with a sprained ankle anyway. Limping into the bathroom, Sam fished around until he found a stretched out ace bandage. Looks like it was almost time to replace it. He shuffled over to the couch and pulled off his sneaker, wincing as he moved the tender joint, while his family dropped their gear by the table.

"Need any help with that?" Dean offered.

"I got it." Sam snapped, pealing off his sock to reveal the bruised flesh underneath.

"Leave him alone, Dean." John instructed, speaking for the first time since the botched hunt. "He needs to learn how to handle the consequences of his actions."

"Yeah," Sam scoffed, "as if this is my fault."

"If you had followed my instructions, none of this would have happened." John stated.

"If I had followed YOUR instructions, Dean could have been dead right now." Sam shot back.

"Your brother can take care of himself." John said with a glare. "At least he knows to watch out for rotting wood."

Sam flinched at the words. He knew that they were true. Dean was a great hunter, ten times better then Sam. But when he saw the witch heading for the basement, orders or no orders, he had to go after her. Dean was done there, he couldn't let the b&^*% take his brother by surprise. Unfortunately, he was the one who took them both by surprise when he took a tumble and landed at her feet mid-incantation. Dean jumped out of his hiding spot to keep her from blasting his head off and that's when things really went to h%$&. But there was one thing that would have put a stop to the whole disaster before it even started.

"I wouldn't have had to watch out for rotting wood if you hadn't taking me on this stupid hunt in the first place!"

"It was a three man job, Sam."

"That's crap, Dad! You had me watching the freaking door!"

"Well maybe if you had a better attitude you might get a better position." John snapped. "But Dean and I can't do our jobs if we have to spend our time worrying about you."

"If you're SO worried about me, why didn't you just let me stay home like I asked?"

"Because you need to learn, Sam! Life doesn't revolve around you."

"Hey, I know life doesn't revolve around me. How could it when all this family cares about are these f&%^ing hunts?"

"Sam, grow up and stop acting like a d&$% kid!"

"No Dad, why don't you grow up and start acting like a d^&* father!"

Without waiting for a reply, Sam went into the bedroom portion of their motel and slammed the door behind him. He was fed up with his dad and this hunt, h^&% his whole f*#$ing life! He had to get out. Grabbing the pair of boots that Dad had bought him, a size and a half too big, Sam slipped him swollen foot inside and laced it up. He had left his coat in the main room and knew grabbing it would only restart the fight, he settled for layering up a couple of sweaters. At least it was fairly mild for January. The year before they had spent time in Buffalo New York going after a windego. Three pairs of socks and his feet were still cold, that hunt REALLY sucked. Once he was satisfied that he wouldn't freeze, Sam slipped out the window and made his way slowly down the sidewalk.

Ten minutes later, he was starting to regret not adding a third sweater. The biting wind went right through the knitted fabric, causing shivers to wrack his body. He thought about turning back, but by the time he made it back they would have probably noticed he was gone. He should have waited until after Dean's customary give-the-old-man-a-break or he-may-be-an-a%$-but-Dad-is-doing-the-best-he-can speech. The talk usually started about ten to fifteen minutes after any door slamming. By that time frame, Sam would probably run into the Impala before he was halfway there. If that was the case, he would have to go through a do-you-know-how-stupid-you-are-acting rant from Dean while he brought hm back. Then again, he would have to go through it anyway once Dean found him. Maybe it was best if he wasn't found.

"Sam?"

To late, Sam sighed, time to face the music. He turned around, startled to see a man standing behind him.

"Who are you?" The teen demanded, reaching for the knife he had left at the motel in his coat pocket. "How do you know my name?"

"Calm down, Sammy." The man said gently, raising his hands. "It's me."

Something in that voice made him hesitate, something familiar. The man took a small step forward, the light reflecting off a small object that hung around his neck.

"Holy crap." Sam gasped.

This couldn't be true, but it was. The warm green eyes … the dusting of freckles … thesmell of leather and gun oil … the brass amulet …

"Dean?"

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That's it for now.

Let me know what you think and I will get the next chapter up soon. (I see Thomas every weekday at school, so I can't slack too much on this one.)


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so this one is a bit short, but I just wanted to give you guys a better idea of how messed up their situation is.

Enjoy ...

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Chapter 2**

Panic. Pure blind panic. That was all Dean felt when he walked into the bedroom he had been sharing with his brother. Well … panic mixed with guilt, anger, and fear … but mostly panic. His brother was gone, something that didn't sit well with Dean under normal circumstances, but this was not normal. First off Sam was hurt and second it was barely thirty degrees outside. Add that to the fact he was alone on the street, with a witch on the loose, and you have a recipe for disaster.

"Dad!" Dean burst into the main room. "Sam is gone."

"Again?" John groaned, rubbing a weary hand over his eyes.

"Don't get too upset about it, dad." Dean growled, pulling on his coat.

"Dean, he does this all the time." John reasoned, returning to the gun he had been cleaning. "He'll come back."

"Are you serious?" Dean gave his father a strange look. "He is hurt and alone out there. What if the witch finds him?"

John thought for a second and nodded.

"You're right." He admitted, setting the gun aside and grabbing his own coat. "We better go get him."

That's more like it, Dean thought to himself. He snatched the Impala's keys from the end table and followed John to the door. But as soon as the older hunter opened it, both froze.

"D-Dad?" The little boy shivered on the top step. "What's g-going on? Where's-s D-Dean?"

"Sammy?" Dean gasped.

The sandy haired child looked up at him with wide, fearful, eyes.

"W-who are you?" He demanded, his teeth chattering. "Where i-is m-m-my broth-ther?"

"Come inside." John said, pulling the freezing boy inside.

Dean pulled the comforter off the bed and wrapped it around his VERY little brother.

"T-Thank you." He murmured, before turning to John. "What happened to Dean?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" John questioned.

"Well …" The young Sam started, his voice firmer, "I was watching tv and Dean went out to get some burritos from the corner store. I fell asleep and when I woke up I was under a tree."

He pulled the blanket tighter and looked from one hunter to the other.

"What happened Dad?" He half sobbed, his blue-green eyes filling with tears. "Where's Dean? Did something-"

"Shh, Sammy, it's okay." Dean soothed, wrapping his arm around his brothers shoulders.

The little boy just snugged deeper into the soft blanket.

"I just want my brother." He whimpered.

Dean bit his lip and looked to his dad for answers. John was studying his youngest son's face thoughtfully.

"Sam, what day is it?"

"Why?"

"Humor me."

"January 13."

Well at least he remembered THAT much.

"What year?"

"1992."

Holy crap! Sam thought he was still eight years old. And it's no wonder he is so scared, January 13, 1992, was less then three weeks after he found out monsters were real. It was a really tough time for the kid, and he was going to kill that witch if she had anything to do with him reliving it.

"Dad, please," Sam gave him a full on puppy dog look, "what happened to Dean?"

Unable to stand seeing his little brother suffer any longer, Dean did the only thing he could think of.

"I'm Dean."

The kid looked at him like he was crazy, but his expression slowly turned to one of revelation.

"Dean?"

"Yup."

"What- When- How did you get so big?"

"It's just part of being awesome, Sammy." Dean grinned.

John shot him a look and turned back to the young Sam, hesitating for a minute. He was probably trying to remember how he managed a paranoid and clingy eight year old, and Dean didn't blame him. The first couple of months that Sammy knew he truth were hard on all of them, especially his dad. Every time John left the motel Sam would freak out until he came back. He had to walk on egg shells every time he brought up a new hunt. But it had been so long since they had to be careful with their words, even Dean was having trouble thinking of a good way to tell his brother what happened.

"Sam …" John started, "we think a witch did this."

The boy's eyes grew wide as he looked up at Dean.

"A witch made you big?"

"What?" Dean shook his head. "No, a witch made you small."

"But-but how can that happen?"

"We don't know," John admitted, "but we will find out."

D%^& straight they would, Dean thought as he wrapped a comforting arm around his brother's small shoulders. They would fix this, then the witch would burn.

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Are you confused yet? Don't worry about it. The next chapter will explain ... almost everything. (I gotta leave some mystery, don't I?)

Let me know what you think so far and I will get the nexy part up as soon as I can.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the recent lack of posting. We were busy with getting a new brother-in-law/son-in-law/uncle into our family. :)

**(: CONGRATULATIONS CHARLIE AND COURTNEY :)**

**(: I LOVE YOU GUYS :)**

**(: YAY WEDDINGS :)**

Anyway, I hope the length of this one makes up for the shortness of the last chapter. (And if you get a bit confused ... again ... keep reading. The ending of this part should clear a few things up.)

Enjoy ...

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Chapter 3**

"So let me get this straight," the twenty something Dean started, taking a seat at the table across from Sam, "after a botched hunt, you had a fight with Dad."

"Is that so hard to believe?" Sam mumbled, accepting the foam topped drink from his brother. "You know what Dad is like."

"That I get." Dean admitted, sipping his coffee. "What I don't get is why you thought it was a good idea to clime out the window, in the middle of January, with a sprained ankle and no coat."

Sam shrugged and focused on the steaming mug in front of him. Typical Dean. The first thing his, much, older brother did after finding him on the street was drag him into the nearest coffee shop to warm up. Looks like some things really don't change.

"So what do you think happened?" Sam questioned, lifting the cup to his lips.

"Well, I was hunting the ghost of a deranged cat lady, so I think we can rule that out." Dean answered. "My guess is Madam Mim must have- what's with you?"

Sam barley heard him as he stared at his drink.

"What is this?"

"Some kind of caramel-mocha-half-caf-crap-latte thing, I don't know. It's what you always drink. Why?"

"It's really good!"

"Uh … yeah. Hence, you ALWAYS drink it." Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude, what is your problem? You're acting like you never drank coffee before."

"I haven't." Sam admitted, taking another sip of the steaming bliss.

"What do you mean you haven't?" Dean frowned.

"Dad and Dean never let me. Something about the caffeine not being good for my growth. I'm too short as is."

"Trust me," Dean smirked, "the LAST thing we have to worry about is your growth."

While Sam wondered what he meant by that, Dean turned back to their previous topic.

"So what happened at the witch's place?"

"I told you," Sam muttered, dropping his gaze down to his coffee, "I screwed up."

"Come on, man," Dean groaned, "s#&^ happens. Move on. But first, tell me EXACTLY what happened at the witch's house."

Sam took a deep breath, spinning his mug between his hands. He didn't really want to tell this Dean about how he had almost got them both killed, but chances were that he was just as stubborn as he was at nineteen.

"We got to the house right after sunset. Dad told me to watch the door and make sure the b*&^# didn't escape. Dad went up and De- you went down. A few minutes later I heard a noise and saw the witch going into the basement with something in her hands."

He paused, remembering the fear that had run through him in that moment. He didn't know what she was carrying, but he didn't want to take any chances with Dean's life.

"And?"

"And I left my post. I tried to back you up. Fat lot of good THAT did."

"Hey, what did I tell you? S*#$ happens. Now keep going, what happened next?"

"She was doing some kind of spell, but not in Latin. I think it was Gaelic." Ingnoring his brother's eye roll, Sam continued. "Anyway, one of the steps broke under my foot and I rolled down the stairs, landing at her feet. De- you jumped out from behind some boxes to keep her from zapping me. There was a loud bang and a flash of light, then she was gone."

"Anything else?"

"You mean besides Dad blaming me for everything that ever happens to us?" Sam spat bitterly.

"I am SO not touching that." Dean mumbled, taking another drink of coffee. "Here is what we are gonna do. We are going to head back to the motel and talk to Dad."

Sam scowled at the thought. He was not ready to face his father, but then again, they didn't have much choice. Something happened in that basement, and they needed to find out what.

"Come on." Dean stood, smacking Sam's shoulder. "I'll drive."

"You have a car?"

"I was on my way to pick you up from the library when I got zapped to this Podunk town." Dean explained, pulling the keys from his pocket. "The car came with me, just like in 'Sliders'."

Rolling his eyes at the TV reference, Sam walked around the corner and hi jaw nearly dropped at the sight of the sleek black muscle car. The teen's heart filled with dread as he thought about the implications of seeing the Impala with his brother and not his father.

"You okay?" Dean asked with a puzzled glance.

"Dean … is Dad dead?"

He spun around, his eyes wide, as he tried to form an answer for his little brother.

"Wha- No! I mean- Where did THAT come from?"

"You have his car." Sam muttered, gesturing towards the Impala.

"Dude," Dean groaned, turning back to unlock the door, "It's mine now. Dad got a new one."

"Dad actually GAVE you that thing?"

Receiving a smack against the back of his head as an answer, Sam walked around to the back seat.

"Now what are you doing?" Dean rested his arm on the wheel and turned around in his seat.

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm getting in my seat."

"There is room up here, Sammy."

The front seat? Dean never let him seat in his designated spot unless he was half dead and had to lay down. Then again, Dean wasn't usually driving the car either. Circling around, Sam pulled open the passenger door and climbed in. It felt good to be upfront with his brother behind the wheel, much less tension then what he usually felt in the Impala. But he wasn't gonna SAY that.

"It's Sam."

"Whatever, b^&%$." Dean grinned, starting the engine.

"Jerk." Sam shot back, not bothering to hide his own smile.

He gave Dean directions to their motel, not that he really needed it since it was the only motel in this tiny town. Pulling up in front of their room, Sam tried to figure out what te reaction would be with him coming home with a grown up Dean. Whatever he had thought of was nothing compared to the stunned looks on his family's faces when he walked through the door.

"Sammy?" Dean gaped.

Had they not noticed he was gone? It had been at least twenty minutes. A second later Sam stopped dead in his tracks, as he caught sight of himself … his much younger self. John was the first to move, pulling a weapon on the now terrified child.

"What are you?" He demanded.

"Dad, it's me." The boy sobbed. "Please don't shoot me, Dad. Please."

The older Dean choose that moment to enter, took one look and the scene, and immediately scooped up the younger Sam into his arms.

"It's okay, Sammy." He cooed. "Dad won't shoot you. I promise."

"Who are you?" The boy questioned, pushing himself back from the adult. "Where is- DEAN!"

The little guy bolted out the door, passed his startled teenage self. Sam turned to see where he was going and really should not have been surprised. Standing next to a really tall guy with shaggy hair was a very young Dean hugging his very own Sammy. Of course there was another Dean … but who was the giant?

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Any guesses on who the "really tall guy" is? ;)

Let me know what you think and I will get back to writing ... as soon as I get home from school.


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